


Wager

by Inmonitorlight



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Illustrations, Kissing, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inmonitorlight/pseuds/Inmonitorlight
Summary: Their sparring sessions are getting repetitive. Sylvain tries to spice things up a little.[WARNING: Now contains NSFW illustrations]





	1. Chapter 1

The clash of steel against steel rings out again and again in a rhythm so steady it might have been practiced choreography. In a sense it is. Deflect, feint, lunge, fade, deflect again. Felix knows this dance by heart. 

Sylvain is a powerful opponent, his height and physical strength making up for what he lacks in terms of finesse, but familiarity makes him predictable. Having already learned how to match every move he makes, Felix needs only focus on wearing him down until he starts making mistakes. It won't take much longer now. He can tell because Sylvain isn't taunting him or flashing that cheeky grin he always starts out with. Instead his brows furrow deeply as he's forced to concentrate in order to stand his ground.

When they next cross blades, Felix lets himself be caught in a bind. Suppressing a grin of his own, he waits until Sylvain applies more pressure - always too eager to prove his strength. Once there’s enough momentum, he glides free and lunges, taking advantage of the split second it takes Sylvain to recover by striking his unprotected flank hard with the blunt practice sword.

“Oof,” Sylvain winces, staggering back a few steps with a hand over his side, “that’s gonna leave a bruise.” He looks just about ready to double over in pain, but they both know it’s nothing more than an act to gain sympathy. From who, Felix can’t say. There’s nobody else using the training grounds at the moment. No audience to feel sorry for him. 

“Pull yourself together,” he tells him, already stepping back into a fighting stance, “we’re not done yet.”

"But we’ve been at it for nearly an hour already," Sylvain complains, "have some mercy, will you?"

"No. Your lack of stamina is going to get you killed one of these days if we don't work on it."

They both scowl at each other then. Sylvain looks away first, groaning as he straightens back up, "Alright, one more round, but if I win you'll have to treat me to dinner." 

"Sure," Felix readily agrees. Whatever it takes to motivate him. 

He isn't surprised when Sylvain gets on the offence the moment they engage, but he doesn't expect the renewed force of his blows. The first strike nearly knocks the sword from his hand, sending a jolt of pain through his wrist. He starts making evasive maneuvers, avoiding contact altogether as he waits for the right moment to strike back. With his next lunge, Sylvain lets out a mock battle cry, and Felix realizes too late that it's a feint, dodging the false strike only to put himself in the line of the true one. He raises his sword in time to defend, but it's knocked aside, leaving him open just long enough for Sylvain to deliver a swift strike right above his hip. 

He's stunned, not by the sharp pain, but by the realization that Sylvain had so much more energy left than he let on. Did the brute hold back before? "Again," he demands, eager to retaliate, but Sylvain only laughs and shakes his head. 

"Not so fast, Felix. Dinner first." 

Right. As much as he might want to, he can't go back on his word.

\---

They're in the bathhouse, washing off the sweat and grime after the sparring session, when Felix glances over to notice that he did in fact leave a rather nasty-looking bruise on Sylvain's flank. The red and purple swelling contrasts sharply with otherwise pale skin. His concern must have been written on his face, because Sylvain moves closer to playfully nudge his shoulder. 

"It's fine. Besides I got you pretty good as well."

Sylvain's words of reassurance are punctuated by the light brush of fingers near the bruise above his hip, and Felix shies away from it, his heart leaping into his throat. It's just comradery, he knows this, but he fears how he might respond if they get too intimate. Acutely aware of his nakedness he dries himself off before changing back into his academy uniform. Thankfully Sylvain follows his example without commenting. It's not until they're back outside and Felix starts walking towards the mess hall that he speaks up 

"Don't tell me we're eating here. You agreed to treat me so let's head into town at least."

"The food is better here," Felix says without slowing, "and if we go anywhere else you're just going to look for girls to bring back with you. It's a nuisance." There's more to it than that. It's taken him a long time to pinpoint why his friend's promiscuous behavior bothers him so. He doesn't typically care about the affairs of other nobles, or anyone's affairs really, but he doesn't like having to compete for Sylvain’s attention. It's undeniably childish, but he can't seem to help it. 

"Hey, no," Sylvain says, reaching for his arm to make him stop walking, "I mean that might be what I'm usually after when I head to town, but if you're keeping me company I'm not gonna run off to talk to someone else. Not even if it's a girl." 

Felix pulls his arm free, but his expression softens. Perhaps he can afford to give him the benefit of the doubt this time. "Alright. We’ll go to the tavern in town."  
  
For once, he doesn't want to wipe off Sylvain's shit-eating grin after relenting. 


	2. Chapter 2

When they train together after class the following day, Felix finds it difficult to reprimand Sylvain for not taking it very seriously. He simply can't help but feel fond of him after the surprisingly pleasant meal they shared the previous evening.

Sylvain didn't wander off to flirt a single time despite there being no lack of potential targets at the the tavern. He didn't even suggest picking up girls together the way he's suggested countless times before (despite being turned down every single time without exception). He merely sat with him and chatted as if there was nothing else he'd rather be doing - nobody else he'd rather be with.

It's foolish to think highly of him for managing to display the bare minimum level of decency, and still Felix had found himself smiling, actually, genuinely smiling at him before they parted ways last night.

"I haven't seen that face in a long time," Sylvain had murmured, "I've missed it." He'd touched his cheek, the caress of his thumb trailing dangerously close to the corner of his lips, and for an instant Felix had almost expected him to lean in, to close the distance between them, but he didn't. Of course he didn't, and Felix knows better than to tell him he wishes he had.

"-so I was thinking we raise the stakes if I beat you again, to keep things interesting," Sylvain concludes whatever he's been saying, making his thoughts shift back to the here and now.

Felix sighs. He doesn't particularly mind rewarding him for trying harder, especially not if it means another evening spent enjoying each other's company without interruptions, but for the sake of his dignity he feels like he should at least pretend to be reluctant. "What do you want this time?"

"We already had a date," Sylvain says with an impish grin, "so how about I get a kiss this time?"

And suddenly it's very easy to be annoyed with him again, because of all the ridiculous jokes he could make it had to be something that actually stings. Not that Sylvain knows how he feels about him, because he would never be so cruel as to taunt him like this if he did. He probably just expects him to get flustered, and he is flustered damn it, but he refuses to let it show. He won't lose to him over such a cheap tactic. Narrowing his eyes he clicks his tongue at him as if in disdain, "Go ahead and try."

Brandishing his sword, he waits for Sylvain to make the first move like he usually does. He deflects the first attack, evades the second and third, his heart hammering loud in his ears. His nerves get the better of him by the fourth, and next thing he knows he's tripping over his own feet, unable to regain his balance fast enough to brace himself for the fifth. That's when Sylvain slams into his blade with the flat of his own, instantly knocking him to the ground.

Wide-eyed and positively mortified, Felix remains sprawled on his back as the dust settles around him. He hasn't made a mistake like that since… well, since ever. Even back when he was a complete novice he still understood the value of good footwork. He would never be caught dead stumbling about like a newborn calf the way he did just now.

Sylvain offers him a hand, and he grudgingly takes it, allowing himself to be pulled back up. He must be pleased with the impact of his little joke. There's no way this notorious womanizer would actually kiss him. Except he does. Before Felix has time to say anything in his defense, he's pulled up against him, their lips touching, their breaths mingling, and then the humiliation of falling in front of him is all but forgotten. Sylvain's mouth is soft and sweet against his, perhaps even yielding, but it's over before he has a chance to find out. Looking up at him, he searches for laughter - for mockery - in his golden eyes, but all he sees is his own uncertainty being mirrored. It really isn't a joke then. Cautiously, Felix allows himself to be hopeful. "Fight me again," he says with a little more confidence than he feels, "If I win, I get to kiss you in return."

Sylvain smiles then, relief written all over his face. "If you make that kind of wager," he responds, "I'm going to lose on purpose, you know."


	3. Chapter 3

_ "If you make that kind of wager, I'm going to lose on purpose, you know." _

Whether it's due to Sylvain's playful challenge or simply the thrill of knowing his attraction towards him isn't one-sided, Felix decides he can afford to be bold. Perhaps even bold enough to beat him at his own game. "Alright," he says, lifting his chin defiantly, "If you win, you get to take me to your room." 

"Oh."

Sylvain's face reddens slightly, his mouth opening and closing several times as if he's forgotten how to speak, "I… okay," he finally manages, "I'll hold you to that then." 

Having regained his composure, Felix gets on the offense from the very beginning of their next bout, abandoning any notion of conserving his energy for the right moment. He's determined to act while his opponent is still perplexed, and he emerges victorious for it, sending Sylvain's blade clattering to the ground with a disarming maneuver. 

He claims his prize immediately, pulling at the taller man's collar to make him lean down so he doesn't have to get on his toes to kiss him. This time Sylvain isn't coy about it either, kissing back without restraint, massaging the tip of his tongue with his own. Felix isn't even sure when he opened his mouth to let him in, but he can't bring himself to worry about it because Sylvain seems to know exactly how to work his tongue to send pleasant little shivers up and down his spine. 

He doesn't want the moment to end, but it's not long before they're both startled by the sound of other students approaching. They part abruptly to avoid being seen, and Sylvain is about to retrieve his sword from the ground, but Felix deliberately drops his own and takes hold of his arm before pulling him along, his heart hammering from the rush of nearly getting caught.

"Where are we going?" Sylvain asks as they exit the arena.

"Your room." 

"But I didn't win." 

Felix lets go of his arm and glares at him, hiding his insecurity behind anger. It's a bad habit, but it's one he's never managed to shake, "Does that seriously matter to you right now?"

Sylvain merely laughs in response, raising both hands as if in defeat, "Relax. I didn't say I don't want to go." 

Reassured, Felix falls quiet, letting his guard back down. They head for the dorm, neither of them speaking outside of brief, obligatory greetings to classmates they pass on the way. It feels like an eternity before they make it to the room at the very end of the hallway. Sylvain locks the door behind them as soon as they’re inside, and for an instant Felix starts to worry he’s in over his head, but a few seconds later he’s got a pair of strong arms wrapped securely around his waist, then they’re kissing again, and there’s nowhere he’d rather be. He’s brought further into the room, though he doesn’t fully register that they’re moving towards the bed until Sylvain sits down on it, guiding him onto his lap. Felix doesn’t resist, still craving his mouth. He hasn't really kissed anyone else, not like this, but Sylvain makes it easy, patiently guiding him on, allowing him to learn by doing. 

They've been at it for a while when Sylvain’s hands begin to stray, running over the small of his back and then his ass, whispering “Nice,” against his lips as he gives it a squeeze. 

“Shut up,” Felix growls, but it comes out sounding like a purr because _damn it_, it feels embarrassingly good.

Driven by a mixture of competitivity and want, he pushes him down on his back, still straddling him as he reaches down to unbutton his pants - only to pause when he feels him tense up. Unsure, he starts to pull away, but Sylvain wraps his arms around his neck, drawing him back in, his usually smooth and steady voice shaking a little as he whispers, "It's ok. Don't stop." 

He's nervous, Felix realizes, even though he’s seemed so sure of himself up until this point. Perhaps he doesn’t go this far with other people as often as he implies he does, or perhaps he didn’t expect it to happen so fast. Regardless, he makes a conscious decision to go easy on him. He rubs his palm against the front of of his pants with care, letting the fabric act as a barrier until he's gotten him warmed up. It seems to do the trick, because it doesn’t take long before Sylvain groans and lifts his hips to increase the friction. 

Encouraged, Felix undoes the remaining buttons of his fly before reaching in to free his prick from its restraints. The sight of it is enough to make his own arousal twitch even though he’s seen it before. They’ve even compared sizes once when they were younger and dumber than now, but seeing it erect and knowing it’s because of him is something else.

The only reference he has for how to proceed is his own likes and dislikes on the rare occasions when he gives himself time to de-stress by masturbating. Figuring Sylvain's preferences shouldn't be too different, he gently runs his fingertips along the length, unable to help but feel smug when it makes him gasp. His touch remains feather-light until he's teased enough precome out of him to lubricate his grip as he wraps his fingers around the shaft to stroke him. 

He watches his reaction the entire time, fascinated by how responsive he is - the way he clutches at the sheets and bites his lip in futile attempts at stopping himself from making too much noise. If he didn't know any better he'd say it's lack of experience, except that can't be it. Sylvain is too much of a thrill-seeker to still be inexperienced at 20. But if it's not inexperience, he must be terribly sensitive, because after less than a minute he’s practically trembling beneath him, his brow damp with sweat and his breathing ragged as if he's already on the edge. A few more strokes is all it takes before he arches his back with a muffled cry, spilling his pleasure in several quick spurts.

"You're faster than I expected," Felix taunts despite knowing it's a little cruel.

"Never done this before," Sylvain breathes, still in a daze, "I couldn't help it."

"There's no way I'm the first to get you off. You've dated so many girls."

"I have, but I didn't sleep with any of them. It's usually just kissing. Not that I haven't been given the opportunity to go beyond that, but I don't want to go to bed with someone who's just hoping to get a baby with a crest out of it. You haven't done it either, right?"

"I haven't, but I'm not the one who's always chasing girls. I figured you would've done it several times by now" 

"You'd think so, huh…" 

Sylvain gives him a sheepish look and Felix sighs, moving to lie next to him on the bed. "If it makes you feel better," he mutters,"I'm glad you haven't. I would've been jealous."

"You're right. That does make me feel better," Sylvain rumbles at him before glancing down, "so, should I…" He makes a suggestive motion with his fist, "help you out in return?"

"Another time," Felix replies, feeling oddly satisfied despite the slight discomfort of pent up anticipation "Let's just say you owe me one for now." 

They rest together for a while, Sylvain starting to doze shortly after tucking himself back into his pants. 

Neither of them know five years will go by before they have another chance to be this close to each other. They might not have passed the opportunity to hold each other if they did.


	4. Chapter 4

They're sparring for the first time since returning to Garreg Mach when Felix starts to realize just how much Sylvain has changed over the past five years. His form is significantly better, his transition from one stance to another surprisingly smooth, but the most noticeable change is the way he no longer charges ahead like a bull trying to brute-force his way to victory. He's learned to be cautious, to think ahead. It makes it harder to take advantage of his flaws.

Felix has improved too of course. He's faster and more precise, still winning more than half of their bouts. Yet something is off, and it won't seem to stop bothering him. The rhythm they used to fall into isn't there anymore, making him feel as if he's fighting an unfamiliar opponent rather than his childhood friend. It's a ridiculous thing to mourn over, he knows, but his heart weighs heavy in his chest by the time they retreat to the bathhouse.

He tries not to look at him too much while they're washing up, worried he'll long for more than old fighting routines, but he still can't avoid noticing he's gained more than a few new scars. No wonder he's had to learn caution. Shit, he should have been there to look after him, keep him out of trouble.

"So, my room or yours?" Sylvain asks once he's finished scrubbing away the smell of sweat and dust, grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

Felix blinks up at him in surprise. He'd be lying if he said it hadn't cross his mind, but so much time has passed he hadn't really expected they'd be picking up where they left off.

"I still owe you one, don't I?" Sylvain continues when he doesn't respond, "I never did get a chance to return the favor. Once the war broke out we barely even had time to see each other."

It's true. Whenever they've met during councils or on the battlefield, the most he's had a chance to do is hug Sylvain and rejoice that he's still alive before they've been separated by duty once more. But they have time now, at least until the boar sends them back into battle.

"My room," he says decisively, tossing his own towel aside to start getting dressed. The walk there will be shorter, if only by a few meters.

\---

Those few meters turn out to make a bigger difference than he anticipated. Back in his room, he barely has time to shut the double doors before he finds himself being pressed up against one of them, his shirt already half unbuttoned and his coat discarded on the floor.

Sylvain is leaning down to kiss his neck, and Felix tilts his head back to let him, sighing approvingly. It's going to be a nuisance tomorrow if he leaves marks, but right now he doesn't care. Right now he doesn't want to think about consequences, because he needs this. He needs to know that even though they've both changed, the bond between is still the same, regardless of where they've been or who they've been with.

He's not naive enough to think Sylvain hasn't bedded other people since last time. He's had a couple of partners himself by now. A fling with a village girl back in Faerghus for a while and later with one of his father's soldiers, incidentally both redheads. But none of that matters the way this does.

He wants to pull him back up to share another kiss, but Sylvain kneels down in front of him on the floor instead, lips brushing against the outline of his arousal. He can feel the heat of his breath through his clothes, and it makes his pulse race with anticipation as Sylvain continues to press open-mouthed kisses along it. There's a wet spot on the front of his pants by the time he's finally unbuttoning them, and Felix eagerly helps him tug them down to his thighs. He's too worked up to feel shy, a rumble rising from the back of his throat as the heat of that mouth envelops him directly. When he mentioned returning the favor, he'd expected him to use his hands, but this is so much better.

Just like when they kiss, Sylvain seems to know exactly what to do with his tongue, gently rubbing the sensitive tissue just beneath the head of his prick, continuing until it's quivering against his lips before he takes him in further, going all the way to where his nose is nestled against dark curls. He doesn't manage to stay that way for long, drawing back with a sharp intake of breath after a few seconds, but Felix is impressed he can do it at all. He tries to say something, to express his amazement, but his mind is clouded with pleasure and all he can manage is a dumbfounded "Oh."

There's a soft snort of amusement at his expense, but he can't get mad about it because Sylvain is taking him into his mouth again, letting the tip rub against the inside of his cheek while he wraps his fingers around the base to stroke him.

It's almost too much. Felix has to bite his lip to keep his voice down. His room is wall to wall with Dimitri's, and while that mindless boar doesn't seem to spend much time there, he doesn't want to risk being overheard by him of all people. Or at least he didn't want to risk it, but little by little he can feel himself no longer caring. Sylvain's mouth is too good, his tongue too clever by far. Grunting, he buries his fingers in his bright, red hair, tugging gently to urge him on. He's almost there. Heat pools in the pit of his stomach, then lower, making him gasp feverishly. He's just about to hit the point of no return - when the bastard has the audacity to pull away.

“Sylvain!" he whimpers, "Shit, I was so close.”

“I know.”

“Then why would you stop? You ass, you moron, you filthy-”

“Shhh,” Sylvain shushes him, the expression on his stupid face full of mischievous affection, “I’ll make up for it. Turn around.”

Felix has no idea what he’s planning, but it better be good. Still fuming with anger he turns to face the door. He’s only half hard now, the saliva coating his prick starting to feel cold without the warmth of Sylvain’s mouth. Fuck, he was so damn close.

His pants are pulled down to his knees, and he bites his lip again while firm hands run up his thighs to rest on his buttocks. “Sylvain--” he yelps as his cheeks are spread apart, leaving him feeling completely exposed. He’s just about to ask him what he thinks he’s doing when, still kneeling, Sylvain leans in to lick and prod him with his tongue.

“Oh for fucks sake- - You’re such a swine,” Felix hisses, reddening all the way to the tips of his ears. He might not be untouched back there, but he’s certainly never been licked. It’s a strange sensation, making him want to squirm, but there's something perversely pleasurable about it at the same time which makes him reluctant to pull away. Tentatively, he shifts his hips back to allow him better access.

Sylvain gives a little hum as if to say "I knew you'd like this," and if he wasn't so right about it Felix might have hit him over the head. Instead he presses back against him harder, wanting more despite the humiliation of it. His muscles are already starting to loosen up from the attention, and he groans as the tip of Sylvain's tongue dips inside of him.

He's got nothing to hold on to for support, and it's not long before his legs are shaking, threatening to give in beneath him any moment. "Wait, wait," he whispers, carefully lowering himself down to the floor once Sylvain pulls back. He tries not to think too much about how he must look as he settles on his knees and elbows, his head low and his ass raised high. "Okay, go on," he mumbles. Thankfully, Sylvain resumes kissing and licking him without comment. He might not be taking advantage of the opportunity to tease him, but he's evidently intent on overwhelming him as he reaches around to stroke his prick at the same time, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the slit until he's dripping precome onto the floor.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut and covers his mouth with both hands, afraid he's going to scream otherwise. He's close again, the muscles in his hips and thighs tightening, his arousal almost painfully sensitive in Sylvain's hand. Finally, he comes with a muffled cry, flushed with relief when his orgasm isn't ruined a second time. If it had been, the frustration might've made him burst into tears.

He's still recovering as Sylvain pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him from behind. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"If you do that to me again I'll kill you," he replies sulkily, though he can't deny being cheated of coming the first time made the second time more satisfying. Sighing, he shifts to rest his cheek on Sylvain's shoulder, soothed by his embrace "I'll help you get off too, just… give me a moment."

"It's alright," Sylvain tells him, kissing the top of his head, "if you don't mind, will you let me sleep here tonight instead?"

"That's terribly sentimental of you," Felix murmurs as if it isn't making his heart leap with delight, "but I'll allow it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've finally completed the last chapter. After learning you can add pictures, I drew and added an illustration to this one, as well as to chapter 1 and 4. Hope you enjoy!

Deflect, feint, feint again, lunge, fade, deflect.

They're falling into rhythm, not quite the same one as before, but still uniquely theirs. 

Their blades cross in a low bind, and Felix doesn't disengage, standing his ground until they're close enough that he's able to lean in, catching Sylvain off guard by pressing their lips together. He smiles into it as he feels the weight against his blade ease up. He could cheat and score a point, but that's not what he's after. They both relax their hold, swords falling to rest at their sides while they kiss. The idea of being caught isn't quite as daunting now as back when they were students, but he still pulls back before either of them can get carried away. 

"You know," Sylvain murmurs, nudging their blades together, "if you want to make out with me, you can just ask for that. We don't have to go sparring first." 

"I like sparring with you," Felix says, somewhere between defense and admission, "I didn't plan this, but now I'm in the mood, so do you want to head back to the dorms or not?"

"Let’s go to my room this time" Sylvain says, and there's some of that nervous demeanor which differs so much from his usual attitude, "There’s, uh...I want to give you something." 

\---

He'd figured it'd be some kind of present, except Felix isn't sure what to make of the pale blue, stained glass vial when it's placed in his hands. He turns it around to look for a label, but there doesn't appear to be one. "What's this for?"

"It's a lubricant," Sylvain explains, rubbing the side of his neck, his smile sheepish, "For lovemaking. I'd uh... like to… with you. If you want."

Lovemaking. Felix would never have expected him to call it that, but he's asking so earnestly he doesn't have the heart to make fun of him for it, "I want to."

He sets the vial on the nightstand and shrugs out of his coat, hanging it over the back of the chair by the desk. Sylvain moves closer, reaching to untie his hair, and Felix finds himself laughing a little at his look of confusion when it doesn't simply fall to his shoulders. "Here," he says, pulling out the pins keeping it in place. To think this fool is an infamous skirt chaser and yet he still doesn't know an intricate hairstyle requires more than a silk ribbon to last throughout the day. Once his hair is loose and he's got Sylvain's fingers combing through it affectionately however, he forgets any reason to criticize him. 

Rather than fumbling with each other's clothes, they pull apart to undress separately the way they do at the bathhouse - perhaps because it's the only other place they've been fully nude together before. The difference is Felix dares to look now. They're both lean, but Sylvain's body is a little more shapely, with broader shoulders, a firmer belly and thicker thighs. He has a prominent inguinal crease, making it difficult for Felix to keep his gaze from following the line down to his semi-erect shaft. He wets his lips before approaching him, trailing that line with his fingertips. Sylvain rumbles, touching his chin and tilting it up so he can kiss him. Having matured past being bothered by their difference in height, Felix pushes himself up on his toes to press closer to him, a spark of pleasure running down his spine as their pricks brush together. He angles his hips up to rub against him, delighting in feeling him grow harder. 

"Even now you want to fence, huh?" Sylvain teases between kisses, reaching down to grasp them both loosely, keeping their pricks sliding along each other as he starts to rub against him in return. Again Felix tries and fails to be angry with him, enjoying the friction too much to mind the teasing. 

They don't discuss who'll be doing what after they clamber into bed together. Felix brings the glass vial along, and he half expects an objection when he's the one to coat his fingers with the slick substance from it, but Sylvain merely lies back on the bed and opens his legs for him, evidently more than willing to be taken. Settling between them, Felix kisses the pale skin on the inside of his thighs while he reaches down to rub his index finger against his opening, prodding gently until it lets him in. Immediately a small noise of discomfort sounds from the back of Sylvain's throat, his muscles clenching tight around the digit.

"Are you alright?" Felix asks, looking up at him in concern. 

"Yeah. It just stings a little. I've never uh… been on the receiving end." 

Felix has to frown then. "You idiot. Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"It's fine. I can take it." 

He doesn't doubt that he can bear the pain, but he wants him to enjoy this, not simply endure it. "Turn around," he tells him, carefully drawing his finger back out "I'll help you relax down there."

He waits for Sylvain to roll over before he starts to rub his lower back with both hands, carefully searching for and massaging every knot of tension firmly, but not with enough pressure to make it hurt. Gradually moving lower, he gives his hips and glutes the same treatment, smiling when his efforts earn him an appreciative sigh. He should give him a full massage sometime. It sounds like he could use one. After a couple more minutes, he reaches for the vial of oil again, applying a copious amount to his fingers. Making sure to be gentle, he rubs his perineum with the tip of his index finger, paying close attention to his response. There's a few muffled noises as Sylvain lies with his face buried in his arms, but they don't sound like they're caused by pain. Soon he's starting to shift impatiently under his touch, and Felix circles his opening a few times before gingerly applying pressure. This time it slips in effortlessly.

"Better?" he asks.

"Mhm," Sylvain replies, still a little muffled, "Doesn't hurt now."

"Good."

He gives him a moment to get used to the sensation before he begins to search for his sweet spot, curious to see how he'll react. Perhaps because Sylvain is aroused, the small bump is easy to locate, and Felix strokes it experimentally until he hears him gasp. 

"You like that?" he asks, continuing to stimulate it with small, gentle strokes.

"I… huh - yeah."

The amount of genuine surprise in Sylvain's voice is outright comical, and yet Felix can feel his heart swell a little with fondness. He's quite cute sometimes. "Good," he says again, perhaps with a bit of extra warmth. 

The second finger goes in just as easily - still he gives him ample time to get used to that as well, not withdrawing the digits until he's confident Sylvain is ready for him. "You can turn back around now," he says, stroking himself with some of the excess oil. He's self-conscious about being watched, but he'll be damned if he's going to miss seeing what Sylvain looks like while being fucked. Will he gasp and quiver under him like the first time he palmed him off on this bed? If so, that'll be a suitable way to get back at him for last night. 

However as soon as Sylvain does turn over, his face flushed and his eyes clouded with nervous desire, any thoughts of revenge evaporate from his mind. Lovemaking, he called it. He can give him that. He wants to give him that. 

Felix doesn't hug him nearly as often as he might have wished to, but he gives in to that urge now, holding him and nestling his face against his neck as he pushes into him with slow, shallow thrusts. He can feel his warm breath on his ear, the slight vibration in his throat with every groan. He's tight, almost painfully tight, but he doesn't sound like he's hurting. He's merely holding him in return, one hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back. "It's okay-" he hears him whisper, sounding a little dazed, "- if you want to go faster." And so he does, quickening his pace, allowing himself to push deeper. The bed is starting to creak beneath them, but he barely even registers the sound over their mingling grunts and gasps. Someone might overhear, and he'll likely be fretting over that later, but right now it's their problem, not his. 

Feeling bold, he pulls his face away from Sylvain's neck, hooking one arm up under his leg and pushing it back so he can get at him from a better angle. 

"Oh- oh fuck-- Felix!," Sylvain moans, letting him know he's brushing against the right spot. The hand in his hair clenches into a fist, tugging perhaps a bit harder than intended. Felix bares his teeth at him, but in truth he doesn't really mind having his hair pulled. It feels good despite the pain. Straining against his hold, he works to find a steady rhythm, resisting the urge to plunge into him with reckless abandon. No matter how well he's taking it right now, he doesn't want him to end up too sore afterwards. 

The grip on his hair loosens and he's pulled down for a kiss, Sylvain's mouth hot and welcoming as always. He wants the moment to last, but already his hips and thighs are tensing up the way they usually seem to do when he's close. He won't be able to hold back much longer - not unless he starts over the way Sylvain made him start over last night. He'd been frustrated at the time, but thinking of it now makes him crave the same change of pace, the same excruciating build up to an even more satisfying finale. 

"Sylvain," he says, forcing himself to slow to a halt.

"Yeah?"

"I need… I want…"

He doesn't have to finish the sentence. As soon as he pulls out, Sylvain rolls them both over to get on top.

Felix shuts his eyes and breathes, willing himself to relax as he waits for Sylvain to unscrew the cap of the vial again. It's going to be empty by the end of the night at this rate. Fortunately he doesn't need as much time to prepare, already accustomed to being penetrated. It still hurts to have two fingers inserted in quick succession, but his need is stronger than the pain, and he continues pleading with Sylvain to hurry. Please, please hurry. 

His hips get hoisted up and his thighs are pushed back until his knees are nearly touching his ears. Realizing he's on full display, he feels his face heat up, but he doesn't protest, his fingers digging into the sheets as Sylvain enters him in one, smooth thrust. It's been a while since he's been filled this way, but although he almost forgets to breathe for a moment, his body seems to naturally accommodate to the size of him without clenching up too hard. As far as reality living up to fantasies goes, it feels much like he's imagined it would when Sylvain begins to move. He's always been a natural talent at anything he finds enjoyment in, and fucking is no exception. From the get-go he seems to know exactly how fast, how deep, how hard Felix wants it without needing any instruction. The unrelenting intensity of his thrusts is a relief at first, but it's not long before it starts to be overwhelming. Wrapping his arms around his neck, Felix clings to him for support, biting his bottom lip when he finds himself already getting close again. 

"S… slow down," he tries to demand, but it only comes out sounding like more pleading, "You're gonna make me-" He cuts himself off with a low moan, quivering as a surprisingly heavy load of precome seeps out onto his belly. 

"It's fine," Sylvain assures him, "I'm close too."

And with that, Felix lets himself give in. 

His orgasm doesn't hit him quite the way he expects. Rather than being centered around his groin the surge of heat and pleasure spreads through his entire body in pulsating waves so potent it makes him cry out. He can't seem to properly ejaculate, his spunk merely continuing to gently leak from his shaft, yet he can't think of a single time its felt this good before. He lets his head drop back on the mattress when it's over, gasping weakly at each following thrust.

It’s not long before Sylvain pulls out to stroke himself over the edge, spurting thick droplets of semen onto Felix' chest and stomach. As soon as he’s finished he collapses on top of him with a most content sigh, taking a moment to regain his breath before he speaks. "You looked positively euphoric for a moment there," he ventures, sounding rather pleased with himself "Did I make you feel that good?" 

"You're heavy," Felix complains instead of answering, though he doesn't try to push him off. His warmth is comforting despite the sticky fluids smeared between them. 

Sylvain eventually does roll off him, but he keeps holding him close, smiling when he's held in return. "I've been meaning to ask," he murmurs, "Would you stay with me for a while when the war is over? I realize you'll have your own matters to tend to, but it can wait a few days, right?" 

Felix smiles back at him then. "I'd like that."

He knows a relationship between them can't really last. When the war ends, it'll only be a matter of time before Sylvain is pressured into marrying a suitable girl and producing an heir to carry on his family's name and crest. Still, he wants to be with him for as long as he can. Perhaps it will make it all the more painful when they part, but as he rests in his arms, safe, warm, and flushed from the afterglow, he can't be bothered to try to convince himself this isn't worth it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on here. I expect it to be about 5 chapters long.  
English is not my first language, so I hope I didn't make too many mistakes!


End file.
